


Princess Commander

by Cassie_Bones



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Arranged Marriage AU, Can I make it any more obvious?, Clarke is a princess, F/F, LITERALLY, Lexa is a commander, Princess Commander, it's for my people, yeah okay clarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-15
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-06-08 14:38:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6859087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cassie_Bones/pseuds/Cassie_Bones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arranged Marriage AU. Clarke is the Princess of Arkadia and needs to enter into a union with the Commander of Trigeda in order to keep her people safe. Soon, though, it becomes about more than just her people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Clarke Griffin was only thirteen years old when she was crowned princess of Arkadia, still pimply and gangly and awkward, though unique in her leadership and privilege. She was one of the few in their nation that had earned the honor of being called royalty. Along with her was Wells Jaha, who was the son of Chancellor Thelonious Jaha and Clarke’s best friend, and Bellamy Blake, who was born without their privilege, but not without the ability to lead or the strategic intelligence that all leaders must bear.

They were the three heirs to the throne now, all of whom had proven their worth through multiple tests and trials. Only these three had passed each and every one of them. Clarke was the youngest and her parents couldn’t have been more proud as they watched her bow for the delicate tiara to be placed in her blonde locks.

Clarke’s heart hammered in her chest as King Marcus Kane placed it on her head and asked her to repeat her pledge to their nation; to protect their people and lead them into greatness; to solve all their problems to the best of her ability, with grace and logical thinking. And, if it were to be so, to accept the title of Queen if and when the time came for Kane to pass on the crown. The boys repeated the same pledge and all three stood before their friends, family, and fellow citizens as they cheered for them and chanted their names.

Clarke felt a swell of pride well up in her chest, even as nervous butterflies fluttered in her stomach.

* * *

 

“Your Highness,” Clarke looked up as a familiar face entered the throne room, her spine straightening at the sight of Thelonious Jaha, the Chancellor. She was seventeen now, and had heard many complaints and concerns from her people over the last few years, having been on rotation with the boys. It was sometimes tedious, but always rewarding (or so she told herself).

Still, Chancellor Jaha had never come to her before.

“Yes, Chancellor?” Clarke asked, watching as Jaha rose, his head still bowed out of respect. “What brings you here today?”

“Your Highness,” Jaha replied, “there seems to be a dispute.”

“With our kingdom?” Clarke asked, confused as to why the Chancellor was bringing this up to her, rather than the king. Disputes were not yet her place.

“No, Highness,” Jaha said. “The dispute lies between Azgeda and Trigeda.” Clarke nodded in recognition; the two nations had their own rulings systems, but Arkadia had stepped in, time and again, to help them sort out their differences. “Queen Nia, it seems, has once again threatened war on Polis and the Grounders are requesting our intervention.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. That was new. Rarely did the Grounders of Trigeda ever call upon Arkadia for help. More often than not, Arkadia stepped in without asking and forged treaties between the two nations—which many of the Arkadians described as “savage” and uncivilized.

“Have you informed King Marcus of this?” Clarke asked, knowing that it was best to always have him in the know.

Jaha nodded. “He requested that I bring it to you. He wants to know if you have any sort of plan to solve this dilemma.”

Clarke felt her palms begin to sweat as the stress overtook her. How would she solve a situation like this? Azgeda and Trigeda had been sworn enemies since nearly the beginning of the nations. They had been fighting for at least as long as Clarke had been alive and she didn’t think that she would be able to stop that anytime soon. Still, Jaha looked at her with trust and hope in her eyes and Clarke nodded, firmly.

“Bring both the Commander of Trigeda and Queen Nia to Arkadia,” she said. “And the princes and I will hear both sides of the argument and decide, together, what is to be done.”

Jaha nodded, smiling proudly. “At once, Highness,” he said, with a deep bow, before turning and walking out of the throne room.

As soon as he was gone, Clarke slumped in her chair, closing her eyes for a long moment, before opening them again and looking over at her guard on the far left wall. “Miller,” she said and the young man perked up at once, heading toward her.

“Yes, your Highness?’ he asked, bowing slightly.

“Call for Wells and Bellamy,” she said. “Tell them that the leaders of Trigeda and Azgeda will be coming to see us soon and we need to come up with a solution for their latest quarrel, together. Tell them to hurry.”

“Yes, Highness,” Miller said, bowing again, before he made his way out of the room. Clarke slumped down in her chair again and tried to calm the butterflies that had once again started to flutter in the base of her stomach.

_You can do this._

* * *

 

By the time Chancellor Jaha had entered the throne room again, Bellamy sat to her left and Wells, to her right. King Marcus stood to the side, guarded on all sides.

“Are they here?” Clarke asked, calmly; regally.

Jaha nodded. “Queen Nia is here,” he said. “And the most recent Commander of Trigeda is, as well.”

“Most recent?” Clarke asked.

“She’s only just recently ascended, Highness,” he informed her. “Less than a year ago now. She’s young, but don’t let that fool you.”

“As long as she gives us the same courtesy,” Clarke replied, lifting one eyebrow. The boys nodded in agreement. “Bring them in.”

Jaha nodded and nodded to the guards to open up the doors. “Princess Clarke, Prince Bellamy, and Prince Wells,” he said, “I bring you Queen Nia of Azgeda.”

Immediately, a woman dressed in gray and blue-dyed furs entered the room, her eyes heavy with eyeliner and wrinkles lining her face. Everything about her was cold, Clarke couldn’t help but notice, from her icy blue eyes, to the thin set of her lips, to the pale white of her skin. She looked to be made of ice and suddenly Clarke understood the nickname her people had given to Azgeda.

 _Ice Nation_.

“Welcome, your Majesty,” Clarke greeted, standing and bowing her head. The boys followed suit and then they all sat.

Queen Nia raised one eyebrow and then glanced over at King Marcus. “Have you retired already?” she mocked. “Have you become soft, Marcus? Are you too scared to face me, yourself?”

“One of these three is the future ruler of Arkadia, Nia,” Marcus replied. “I must loosen the reigns a little bit and give them a little more responsibility. You are good in their hands, I swear it.”

Nia scoffed, disbelievingly, but she did bow, however quickly, in greeting and semi-respect.

“And,” Jaha said, getting back on track, “Commander Lexa, of Trigeda.”

With much less haste than the woman before her came a young woman with long, dark brown hair, and cool green eyes, dressed all in black, with a sword at her left side. With her walked two warriors. On her left was a man nearly twice her size, with a long, braided beard, and tattoos on his face, though his eyes betrayed a softness when he looked down at her, like a father. Clarke dismissed the idea, however, remembering in her studies that most Commanders are raised to be as such in Trigeda—they have no connection to the parents that birthed them. Surely, though, this was the man who had raised her.

The other warrior was female, with dark-as-night skin and serious brown eyes that stared straight ahead, daring anybody to get too close to her charge. She, too, had weapons on her body, and looked all too eager to use them.

Commander Lexa bowed at once. “Your Highnesses,” she said, in a low, respectful voice.

“Heda,” Clarke replied, bowing in reply, using the word for ‘Commander’ in their native tongue. “Welcome.” She looked to Queen Nia. “Both of you. We understand that you have had another disagreement?”

Lexa nodded, mutely, but Queen Nia dove headfirst into a complaint of how the Commander had asked her to join their alliance and become the twelfth clan, as if she needed any kind of protection from a nineteen-year-old child, who couldn’t lead an army, much less a _nation_ and how disgusted she was that Lexa would even bring up the very idea that—

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Bellamy said, interrupting. “That’s what this is all about? You threatened _war_ because the Commander offered you a spot in her alliance? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”

“ _Bellamy_!” Clarke hissed, glaring at him.

“I’m sorry,” he replied, “but doesn’t that just sound a little ridiculous to you?”

“It doesn’t matter how it sounds to _us_ ,” Clarke reminded him. “The problem is between Azgeda and Trigeda; we are simply mediators.”

“Smart girl, Marcus,” Nia complimented. “You may have just found your successor.” Marcus smiled with pride. “And how dare you, boy, question _my_ authority? I am a _Queen_ and you are just a lowly prince; no older than my own useless boy. I demand an apology at once.”

“An apology?” Bellamy asked. “For what?”

“For your blatant disrespect!”

“But I—”

“Prince Bellamy!” Clarke exclaimed, glaring at him. “ _Apologize_.”

Bellamy sighed and straightened his back, looking into Queen Nia’s eyes, his face devoid of all emotion—even regret. “My apologies, Queen Nia. I spoke without thinking.”

“Typical,” the queen replied with a huff. “Now, what do you suppose we do about this, then? How are you all going to stop a war? You’re barely out of diapers.”

“We could come to a compromise,” Clarke suggested. “Find out how working together could benefit both of your nations. For instance, Queen Nia, what is one thing that you would like from Trigeda?”

“A wife,” the queen replied and Clarke watched Commander Lexa’s face turn red with annoyance. “For my son,” Nia added. “Only then will I join Heda’s alliance.”

“I’ve already told you,” Lexa said, turning to Queen Nia. “I have no interest in your son, but I would be more than happy to introduce him to one of my female warriors, if he so pleases.”

“What would the point of a marriage be,” Nia snapped, “if he did not wed a ruler?” Then, she turned to look at Clarke, eyeing her up and down. “What about you?” she asked. “Would you like to marry a prince? One that is not from your own nation.”

Clarke’s eyes widened at that. She’d always assumed she’d marry one of the men at her side—though she felt nothing even remotely romantic towards either of them—or, like the king, she would remain single and choose a successor in a similar manner she was chosen. She’d never imagined she’d get a marriage proposal from a neighboring nation.

“I—”

“The issue does not lie with our nations, your Majesty,” Wells said, standing up, keeping his back straight. “It lies between Azgeda and Trigeda. Any marriage should be between your two nations. Heda Lexa has offered one of her warriors; you should accept.”

“I did not.” Lexa interrupted before the queen could reply. “I offered an introduction. The choice of marriage would be up to them; both parties must consent or there is no deal.”

“You see why we’re here?” Queen Nia hissed, looking up at the three royals. “She _refuses_ to compromise!”

“What exactly would Trigeda get out of such a marriage?” Lexa snapped. “You said yourself that you would rather Prince Roan wed a ruler and if he did, he would be protected under my alliance. None of my clans would dare move against Azgeda, but what protections would you offer us?”

“An heir to Trigeda,” the queen replied, coldly. “Somebody to take over, should anything happen to you.”

“You know not how this works,” Lexa spat at her. “I have multiple heirs; I do not need yours.”

“Then I suppose that means we _shall_ go to war.” With that, the queen turned on her heel and stormed out, leaving everybody watching after her.

When she was gone, Lexa turned back to the three heirs and bowed her head. “My apologies, Highnesses,” she said. “There’s very little arguing with Queen Nia.”

“I don’t understand,” Bellamy said. “Why didn’t you just wed Prince Roan?”

Lexa breathed a deep sigh. “I have no interest in men,” she said, bluntly. “Even if we were to wed for the alliance, I would never bear his children. Azgeda would have no heirs after him. Besides that,” she went on, “Roan is under the control of his mother and always will be. To wed him would be to hand power over to her and I cannot do that.”

Clarke nodded in understanding. “Understood, Commander,” she said, “but now we have a war on our hands. What do you expect to do about that?”

Lexa’s shoulders slumped for all of a second, before she remembered herself and stood straight. “We could form an alliance, your Highness,” she said. “Arkadia could take Azgeda’s place as the twelfth clan. Our armies far outnumber Azgeda’s alone, but together…Queen Nia would stand no chance against us.”

Clarke considered this, nodding thoughtfully. “Give us a moment, please?” Heda nodded and bowed as they stood and made their way over to King Marcus, conferring with him.

“What do you think?” Clarke whispered. “Is an alliance a good idea?”

“Is that what you think?” Marcus asked, with a small smile. “Remember, this one is yours.”

Clarke sighed. “I’m simply asking your opinion, your Majesty,” she said. “You will still be the king for a long while and if you think, for any reason, that this would not be good for Arkadia, then you must say so now.”

Marcus nodded. “I think it would be a fine idea. Arkadia has been attempting to form an alliance with Trigeda for nearly a century, without any luck. Most commanders don’t trust us and I can’t blame them, really. We’ve had many wars since our nation began.”

“We must give them a reason to trust us, then,” Clarke said. “Like…like a marriage.”

“But you heard the Commander,” Wells said. “She has no interest in men and—no…Clarke?”

Clarke looked away from her best friend’s face and took a deep breath. “It’s the only way,” she said. “If I marry the Commander, then our people would be assured safety and the alliance will hold.”

“Are you sure about this?” King Marcus asked, looking her straight in the eye. “Your mother will kill me herself if I let you do this and we’re not 100% that this is the only way to keep our alliance.”

Clarke nodded. “I’m sure,” she said. “I will wed the Commander of the eleven— _twelve_ clans. For my people.” She straightened up. “It’s the only way.”

With that, Clarke walked back to her throne and stood before the Commander, who stared up at her with those cool green eyes, waiting. Clarke waited for the boys to join her before addressing the Commander.

“Lexa Kom Trigeda,” she started, “I would like to offer a proposal of marriage.” Lexa’s eyes widened at that. “It would ensure that our alliance is kept by both sides, and it would join our armies in the fight against Azgeda, however long it will be.”

“And after we’ve declared victory over Azgeda?” the woman on Lexa’s right asked. “Will you abandon Heda and our alliance?”

“Never,” Clarke promised. “Once the Commander and I are joined in marriage, we will be eternally united. As will the alliance. I swear it.” She turned to look Lexa in the eyes and could see a slight flush on the girl’s cheeks. “What say you, Commander?” she asked. “Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife—and I, yours—and joining our two nations?”

Lexa took a deep breath, her hands locking behind her back, and nodded once, slowly.

“I accept your proposal,” she said. Clarke gave her a shaky smile and nodded, stepping down from the platform and making her way to the Commander. Once she was but two feet away, she kneeled at Lexa’s feet, bowing her head.

“Thank you, Commander,” she said, her voice nearly a whisper. There was silence for a long moment, and then she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, Clarke found her face only inches from the Commander’s, her hand held out for her. Clarke took it and was immediately pulled to her feet.

“One thing you must remember, as my wife,” Lexa said, “is that we are equals in every way. Never forget.” Clarke nodded and offered a shy smile, her fingers still interlocked with Lexa’s. She turned so that they stood side by side, looking up at the men on the platform. Bellamy and Wells were looking at her with concern etched in their features, but King Marcus was smiling, knowingly.

“Wonderful!” he said. “You shall be married at sunset tomorrow. Tonight, we will celebrate! Heda, feel free to invite your clans to join us for a feast.”

Lexa nodded. “Thank you, your Majesty,” she said. “I will.” She looked at Clarke. “I’ll see you later?” Clarke nodded, feeling a slight flush come over her own features at the look in Lexa’s eyes. Lexa smiled and raised Clarke’s hand to her lips, pressing a soft kiss there.

“ _Leidon, ai tombom_.”

Clarke felt something flutter in her chest at the emotion in the words, her fingers tingling as Lexa dropped her hand and made her way out of the room, her warriors following behind her.The second they were gone, however, she felt the butterflies get replaced by dread as a worrying thought came over her:

_How am I going to tell my mother?_


	2. Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abby and Titus find out about the marriage. Clarke meets Aden and starts to look forward to this whole marriage thing...for her people, of course.

**Part Two**

“MARRIAGE?!!??!” Clarke flinched at the anger in her mother’s voice. She was standing in the medical bay, where her mother had been patching up one of the town’s most gifted mechanical engineers, Raven, who’d injured her leg. The girl was stuck on an examination table now, watching them with wide eyes as they went back and forth.

“Yes,” Clarke said, trying to keep calm in the wake of her mother’s rage. “Marriage. It’s the only way to keep our people safe.”

“Marriage, though?” Abby Griffin exclaimed. “To a _Grounder_?”

“Not just any Grounder,” Clarke argued. “Commander Lexa is the leader of the Grounders. If we join her coalition, our army expands nearly tenfold!”

“But _marriage_? How is that possibly the only way to join the coalition?”

“It will ensure that there are no betrayals,” Clarke explained. “From either side. If I become her wife—”

“WIFE!” Abby scoffed. “Wife to a Grounder, my daughter!”

Clarke sighed, gritting her teeth. “I guess it’s going to take some time for you to get used to this,” she said. “That’s fine; take all the time you need, but my wedding is tomorrow.”

Abby’s eyes widened at that, her eyebrows practically disappearing into her hairline. “TOMORROW?!?!” Even Raven winced at that, scrunching her nose up as she looked at Clarke.

“That does seem pretty sudden,” she said, looking at Clarke. At the look the blonde gave her, Raven was quick to tack on a, “Your Highness,” for good measure.

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned back to her mother. “The king is hosting a feast tonight to celebrate our union,” she informed her. “I hope you’ll be there to meet your future daughter-in-law. And I hope you’ll be there tomorrow to escort me down the aisle; you and my father.”

Abby took a deep breath. “I can’t promise that your father will be any happier about this than I am,” she said, “but we’ll both be there for you, no matter what.”

Clarke smiled and threw her arms around Abby in a tight hug. “Thank you,” she sighed against her shoulder. “Thank you for understand it.”

“Oh I definitely don’t,” Abby said, pulling away. “But I guess there’s nothing I can do to stop it, short of locking you away in a dungeon. And that will only end up with me getting my head chopped off for treason.” She chuckled and shook her head. “Tell me I at least get to help you choose a wedding gown.”

“We’ll see,” Clarke said. “I might not be wearing a traditional Arkadian dress; it might be one from Trigeda.”

“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll look lovely in it.”

Clarke sighed in relief and smiled at her mother, wrapping her up in her arms again in an even tighter hug. “Thank you, Mom,” she said. “I know this is hard for you—”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Abby grumbled against her shoulder.

“But you’ll see—this will be good for our people. And the new Commander seems very reasonable.”

“History has proven otherwise,” Abby said, pulling back. “Remember Mount Weather?”

Clarke rolled her eyes and stepped away from her mother, crossing her arms over her chest. “I haven’t been able to go a single schoolyear without being reminded of Mount Weather,” she said.

“It’s a good lesson.”

“Come on, Mom,” Clarke groaned. “That was, like, twenty years ago! You know Arkadia would have done the same thing if offered that deal. Besides, Lexa isn’t like that.”

“Lexa?”

“The Commander,” Clarke said, feeling her face flush at her mother’s narrowed gaze. “She’s much more…reasonable than her predecessors were. Besides, that’s what this marriage is; protection. As long as our people become one and the same, we’re safe from deals like that. Trust me.”

“I do trust you,” Abby sighed. “But I don’t know this girl—and neither do you. Not enough to _marry_ her, at least.”

Clarke took a deep breath. “I’ll be fine,” she insisted. “I swear. We’ll all be fine.”

Abby looked doubtful, but she said nothing more.

* * *

 

“ _Heda_!”

Lexa sighed at the sound of her advisor’s voice, right outside her door. She had just finished changing into her formal gown—knives strapped to both thighs underneath, just in case—and was in the middle of putting on her traditional makeup when the interruption came. She nodded to the guards stationed at the door and one of them opened it, stepping aside as Titus came barreling in.

“ _Heda_ , what is this I hear about a _marriage_ between you and the Sky Princess?”

“Come to congratulate me, then?” Lexa asked with a slight smirk as she spread the dark makeup like a mask over her eyes.

“Congrat…?” Titus was practically sputtering and Lexa had to fight back her laughter. “ _Heda_ , you know the rules! What have I always taught you? Love is—”

“Weakness,” Lexa finished, sighing. “Yes, I know, Titus. But this is not love—this is for the good of our people.”

“ _How_?” Titus spat. “How could this possibly benefit our people?”

“By joining our armies with those of the Sky People, we will easily overtake Azgeda and keep them from ever attacking again. Our people will be safe—as well as the Sky Princess’s.”

“Why do you care about the Sky People?”

“They are good allies, even after what our people did to them all those years ago.”

“Had they not done what they did, you would not be here today,” Titus reminded her and Lexa’s jaw clenched. She didn’t know very much about her parents, except what Titus and Gustus and Indra had told her in passing, but she knew that her mother had been one of the captives of Mount Weather and had only been freed just before they were to take her life away, thanks to the Commander’s deal. She had been pregnant with Lexa at the time, according to Titus. Lexa took a deep breath, remembering that.

“That doesn’t make it okay,” she said, turning to him with fire in her eyes. “Because of what our people did, we lost out on what might have been a mutually beneficial arrangement. This wedding might not have even been necessary, with or without my leadership. But it is and I plan to follow through on it. For the good of Trigeda.”

“ _Heda_ …”

Lexa raised one hand to silence him. “No more words, Titus,” she said. “Now we must act. The Sky King is throwing a banquet for us tonight in celebration; will you be there?”

Titus closed his eyes for a long moment and Lexa could swear she saw a vein twitching on top of his bare head. “I suppose so,” he said, finally. “After all, I should meet this bride of yours, shouldn’t I? It seems like she’ll be around for a while.”

Lexa nodded. “Yes,” she said, authoritatively. “She will be.”

* * *

 

As Clarke walked into the Banquet Hall at the Palace (which was larger than the neighborhood she had come from in Upper Arkadia), she was taken aback by the sight of nearly every single one of her nation’s citizens. Many of them were her classmates, back when she had gone to public school. Others were committee members and merchants and doctors and…there were so many people. Suddenly, she felt overwhelmed, about to turn around and run right back to her bedroom.

But then a booming voice announced her and all eyes turned in the direction of “Clarke Griffin, Princess of Arkadia.” She straightened her spine immediately and put on her best smiled, descending the steps as the crowd applauded her appearance. She could see Bellamy and Wells always sitting at the main table, off to the side, leaving the two center seats empty. They were for her and the Commander, she gathered. The Commander who had yet to arrive.

Clarke sighed, willing away the butterflies that fluttered in her stomach and flew up into her chest. Marriage was not something she had put too much thought in before. In fact, the second she had been crowned princess of the nation, she pretty much pushed the idea of marrying _anybody_ aside. Her only viable options—or so she thought—would be Wells or Bellamy, since all three were now royalty and it would only be natural for her to marry one of them. But she felt no romantic attraction to either of them and so she figured she would live out her days like Kane—alone, but not so much lonely.

If she didn’t become the Queen, she thought there might be a chance for her to court somebody and possibly marry them, but the closest she’d ever come was Niylah, a merchant’s daughter, whom Clarke had had a short fling with the previous year. It hadn’t worked out for them and so Clarke thought she might be destined to be alone.

Funny how things can change so drastically in the matter of minutes. Now she was about to marry the Commander of a neighboring nation just so their people would remain safe in the upcoming war with Azgeda. Clarke wondered, idly, if Lexa would be a good wife—or if _she_ would be. She wondered where they might live and if Clarke might still have a chance at being crowned Queen if she had to spend half of her time in Trigeda with the Grounders. Would she be considered a Heda, as well? Or would she always be the Sky Princess to them? Did the Grounders approve of this marriage as well as the Arkadians seemed to?

What the hell was she even doing?

By the time she reached the bottom of the steps, Clarke’s heart was beating erratically and a million thoughts and doubts and regrets were running through her mind. It was suddenly very hard to breathe, especially surrounded by so many smiling, happy people who were all vying for her attention, patting her shoulders in congratulations. Clarke felt dizzy and fought to remain upright as she walked through the crowds to get to her table, where Wells pulled out her chair for her and Bellamy offered her a glass of wine. She thanked them both with a smile and took a long sip, sighing in relief as she felt the liquid glide smoothly down her trachea.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked and Clarke nodded, her eyes still shut tightly.

“I’m fine,” she lied, then took another deep breath. “Everything is fine.”

Bellamy didn’t look like he believed her, but he nodded anyway. Clarke was grateful and she sat back in her seat with a sigh, closing her eyes as she attempted to drown out the white noise of the people all around her.

It must have been a while before Wells was nudging her and nodding to the double doors that led into the hall, because suddenly everything was quiet, all eyes glued to a large group of newcomers. Clarke instantly recognized Lexa’s two guards at the head of the group, their faces set in stone as they looked all around them. The woman still had a sword at her hip, one hand resting on it, as if daring anybody to attack her.

Clarke, Bellamy, and Wells all stood, their chins held up in greeting. Clarke offered the guards a friendly smile, but they did not return it. Instead, they shared a look, nodded, and then parted, revealing a sight that had Clarke’s heart stuttering foolishly in her chest as the entire hall was suddenly abuzz with whispers.

Commander Lexa of Trigeda stood at the top of the stairs, weaponless (at least visibly) and looking softer than any Commander Clarke had ever seen in the history books she’d had to study in school. She had the traditional war paint surrounding her bright green eyes, but her dress was crimson in color, and had slits up to her knees on both sides. She wore matching lipstick and, if Clarke wasn’t mistaken, her chest was glittering between the thin straps. Her hair was no longer braided, but was now pulled to the side, cascading over one shoulder.

Her beauty took everybody’s breath away—including Clarke’s—and they all watched, silently, as she began her slow descent to the banquet floor, her feet encased in a pair of gladiator sandals, that tied up her calves. They were gold in color and shimmered in the light as she walked, her guards on either side of her, acting almost as escorts.

“Wow,” Wells breathed next to her. “I’m suddenly very jealous of you.”

Clarke gave a weak laugh and nudged him with her elbow, keeping her eyes forward as if unable to look away from the Commander’s beauty—and she was. Every inch of her tingled the closer Lexa got, until she was right in front of her, smiling gently at Clarke, who felt the heat erupt on her cheeks and prayed they weren’t as red as they seemed.

“Princess,” Lexa greeted, bowing her head.

“Commander,” Clarke bowed back, offering a smile of her own. She then motioned to the seat next to her. “Welcome,” she said. “Would you like to take a seat?”

Lexa nodded and turned back to her people. Clarke knew there weren’t nearly as many there as were in Trigeda, but there was still a rather large amount. Almost as may Grounders as there were Arkadians. “Go,” she commanded them. “Mingle. Eat. Dance. No fighting.” The last one sounded like a warning that a mother might give to her children, whom she knew to be naughty from time to time. “Weapons remain at your sides at all times. They are only for outside attacks. Understood?”

Simultaneously, the Grounders nodded and Clarke’s eyebrows rose, impressed. Lexa turned back to her with a smile as they all departed—except for her two guards and a young boy with red hair. “If I don’t remind them, they’ll forget themselves,” she said and Clarke chuckled.

“Heda?” the boy said and Lexa’s eyes widened, before she turned with a smile.

“Aden,” she said, affection lacing her tone. The boy stepped up with a shy smile. Lexa turned back to Clarke.

“Highness,” she said.

“Clarke, please,” the blonde corrected and an attractive blush covered Lexa’s cheeks.

“Clarke,” she said with a nod. “This is Aden. He will be my successor after my death.”

Clarke’s eyes widened at that. “Your death?” she asked.

“Hopefully, it is far away,” she said with a small laugh. “But we must always be prepared. I hand-picked Aden from his class of Nightbloods—just as I was handpicked. I am raising him to be the next Commander.”

There were many things that Clarke didn’t understand about that sentence, but she decided against asking questions and instead nodded, offering her hand to the boy. “Nice to meet you, Aden,” she said, smiling. He smiled in return and shook her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Princess Clarke,” he said. Lexa practically glowed with pride, her hand on his shoulder.

“Go,” she said. “You must be hungry.”

Aden nodded and bowed to both of them before scurrying off to find food. Lexa then walked around the table and took her seat next to Clarke, waiting until the princess sat to do so herself. Once she did, her guards each took their seats next to her.

“You look very nice tonight, Princess Clarke,” Lexa said, her voice low for only Clarke to hear. Clarke felt the heat return to her cheeks and she turned to smile at Lexa.

“As do you, Heda,” she said, matching her octave. Lexa’s smile was much more brilliant than Clarke had ever seen it and suddenly Clarke wasn’t nervous about this arrangement at all.

And, somehow, that was even scarier.


	3. Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa interact and teach each other a couple of things. A little dancing and a lot of clinking Champagne flutes. I think you know what happens next ;-D

**Part Three**

“What’s this?” Lexa whispered, leaning towards Clarke for what must have been the tenth time since they started eating, only fifteen minutes ago. A waiter had placed yet another course in front of them; they were tiny and portioned, beautifully plated.

Clarke looked down at her own plate and grinned at the small pink squares. “Salmon,” she said. Lexa furrowed her brow at her. “Fish,” Clarke clarified. “It’s a type of fish. It’s not really my favorite, but you should still try it.”

Lexa nodded and speared some from her own plate with a fork (Clarke could tell, from the force she exerted, that the Commander wasn’t used to having such strong cutlery; the prongs of the fork squeaked against the china and Clarke covered her laugh with her napkin, disguising it as a cough). She brought it to her lips steadily and took a hesitant bite, chewing slowly as she closed her eyes and absorbed the flavor. Clarke watched, amused, as her jaw worked and her face changed from hesitance to delight and her eyes slowly opened.

Lexa turned to Clarke with a smile. “This is very good,” she said. “What is this seasoning? It’s a bit spicy, but not like the meats we have in Trigeda. It’s more…muted. But delicious.”

Clarke speared a piece of her own salmon and brought it to her nose, sniffing. She then wrinkled it when she felt a slight tickle in her nostrils. “It’s black pepper,” she said. “And a little garlic. You don’t have those things in Trigeda?” The wooded empire wasn’t too far from Arkadia; they shared a river, though Trigeda mainly fished from their own lake, further downstream. She had no idea where they got their spices from. Perhaps, Trigeda had some of their own that Clarke had never tasted before.

“I don’t believe so,” Lexa said, furrowing her brow cutely as she speared another piece. “If we do, then I’ve certainly never tasted them on any meat like this.” She chewed the second piece and let out a tiny, happy noise. “Delectable.” At Clarke’s snort, she turned with a small look of confusion. “What?” she asked, when she found Clarke smiling at her with a look of…something she couldn’t quite name.

(It was adoration, but Clarke would never admit that.)

“Nothing,” Clarke said. “Do you want my salmon?” She pushed her plate towards Lexa and the other girl’s eyes widened.

“You’re not going to eat it?” she asked.

“Like I said: Salmon is not my really my favorite. But you seem to like it.”

“Very much,” Lexa agreed, glancing down at the plate. “You’re sure?”

“Positive,” Clarke confirmed.

“I’m not familiar with that word.”

“I’m sure.”

Lexa nodded and gave Clarke a thankful smile as the girl traded their plates, then pushed the empty one aside. She finished her fish in companionable silence.

* * *

 

When all 25 courses had been complete (and both Lexa and Clarke were too stuffed to take another bite), King Marcus got to his feet, one hand on his belly and the other holding a glass. The rest of Arkadia stood with him.

When Clarke rose, Lexa rose and then all of her people rose with them.

“I’d like to make a toast,” the king announced and flutes of Champagne were placed in Lexa and Clarke’s hands, as well as the princes and Lexa’s bodyguards, who regarded their new drinks with no small amount of suspicion.

“Isn’t toast food?” Lexa whispered to Clarke and the blonde nearly choked on her own tongue as she forced herself not to laugh. She turned to the other girl with an amused grin and found the brunette’s eyes twinkling with mirth.

“Did you just make a joke?” Clarke whispered.

Lexa shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve been known to be quite humorous.”

Clarke chuckled and shook her head, the smile never leaving her mouth as she looked up to catch the last of the king’s speech.

“And to Lexa Kom Trikru,” he was saying, turning to smile welcomingly at the young women just as they schooled their features to reflect the seriousness of this event, “our new ally; Arkadia trusts you with not only our safety as a nation, but with the safety of our princess. All I ask is that you take good care of her and treat her with the respect that she deserves. I’m certain that she’ll do the same for you.” He lifted his glass towards Lexa at her nod. “Congratulations, Heda. Congratulations, Princess Clarke. May your union be long, happy, and healthy.”

“Salud,” the Arkadian side of the room said in unison.

“It means health,” Clarke whispered to Lexa as she took a small sip.

Lexa nodded and raised her own glass. “Salud,” she said and her people echoed her, raising their own glasses and taking a sip. Before Lexa brought it to her lips for a second time, Clarke clinked their glasses together with a small smile that brought a faint flush to Lexa’s cheeks. Clarke looked away shyly as she drained her glass and placed it down on the table.

“Now that’s we’ve got that settled,” King Marcus said, “I would like to invite the princess and her betrothed onto the floor for a traditional waltz.”

It was Clarke’s turn to blush and her cheeks bloomed an almost violent shade of crimson as the spotlight found her and Lexa, who also seemed to turn an impossible shade of pink as she, too, drained her glass. After a long, tense moment, Clarke turned to her fiancée and offered her hand, avoiding her gaze as heat struck where their palms kissed.

Clarke fought to keep her breathing even and her heart from beating out of her chest as they walked together to the dance floor, hand in hand. She couldn’t help the shiver that ran down her spine as she felt the length of Lexa’s fingers against the palm of her hand, or the way the slightly taller girl’s thumb ran over her knuckles, as if to relax her.

The spotlight followed them all the way and Clarke paused in the center of the dance floor, turning to face Lexa just as the other girl nearly knocked her over. Thankfully, Lexa was graceful enough to catch herself and reached out to grasp Clarke around the waist, pulling her against her body in an attempt to steady the blonde. Clarke’s eyes had shut tight, awaiting the impact from the floor, but opened when she felt none and she gasped slightly as she found her face just inches away from Lexa’s, her hands on the other girl’s shoulders.

“Is this okay?” Lexa asked, in a whisper as her fingers flexed on Clarke’s hips. “The…the dancing, I mean? We don’t have to, if you don’t…”

“No,” Clarke said, then shook her head. “I mean…yes. It’s fine. I’m okay.” She took a small step back, but kept her hand on the other girl’s shoulders. “What’s a dance when you’re about to marry a person, right?” She gave Lexa soft smile and delighted at the answering one Lexa gave back.

“Right,” the brunette replied with a small nod. “But, um…” She removed one of her hands from Clarke’s waist and took the blonde’s hand from her shoulder, allowing it to rest in her own. She looked up, meeting Clarke’s blue eyes—which were wide and shinier than she remembered, though not unpleasantly so—and smiled. “Would you like to lead?”

“I…no,” Clarke said. “You should. My instructors always said that the taller partner should lead. You’re taller.”

“Only by an inch or two,” Lexa pointed out.

“Still,” Clarke laughed. “You should lead.”

Lexa gave her a curt nod and a smile. “Okay,” she said, her voice low and raspy. She cleared her throat, the tips of her ears turning bright pink. “Ready?” Clarke nodded and they began to dance, Lexa taking the lead.

1, 2, 3…1, 2, 3…1, 2, 3…

They seemed to glide across the floor, their bodies working in perfect unison, their hands clinging to each other’s bodies as they turned and swayed to the music that had started to play softly in the background as they began to move. Their gazes were locked the entire time, blue on green, sending near-visible sparks between them that had the separate parties whispering to each other as they witnessed this once-in-a-lifetime pairing. They’d never seen anything like this; a Grounder and a Sky Person, moving in perfect harmony, their connection so painfully apparent that there was no denying it. This was destiny.

If only _they_ could see it that way.

Throughout the entire dance, both Clarke and Lexa were stuck in their own heads, their separate minds buzzing with confusion, their hearts dizzy and erratic. What was happening here? Why did they feel like this? For a long moment, Lexa feared she may have been poisoned, but decided against it as she realized that every single muscle in her body (save for her quickly beating heart and slightly wobbly knees) was working just fine and her breathing, while slightly heavier than normal, was not so shallow that she was in danger of losing consciousness.

Clarke felt the heat thrumming through her veins whenever she inhaled the spicy scent of Lexa’s…did Grounders wear perfume? Or something like it? She couldn’t remember. Her brain was fuzzy and her hair was standing on end, and Lexa was in every breath she took; so close to her and yet seemed a million miles away; unobtainable.

It was ridiculous, Clarke knew. She was about to marry this woman; about to become her legally wedded wife. There would be nothing unobtainable about Lexa after they said their vows tomorrow. If their marriage was anything like Clarke’s parents’, then they would share everything. There could be no secrets in a happy marriage, especially one that would hold as much weight as Clarke and Lexa’s.

But their marriage would not be like Abby and Jake’s, Clarke thought, sparing a glance at the crowd and easily spotting her mother and father standing at the forefront of the crowd. Her mother looked slightly worried, and her father had misty eyes, the sap. She smiled slightly as she turned back to lock eyes with Lexa, finding the taller girl’s gaze soft and admiring, a slight upturn of her lips. Clarke bit her lip and felt her entire body flame up. She prayed that she wasn’t as pink as she imagined.

As the music began to slow down, Clarke felt Lexa’s steps slow as well and hers followed until they were no more than swaying in place, their hands held between their bodies, holding on to sweaty palms and pressed against soft curves. When the soft applause started, their bubble burst and Clarke stepped back almost immediately, feeling the loss of Lexa’s body heat the second any space was put between them.

Once again, they locked eyes and the spark of electricity was undeniable.

From their table, Bellamy and Wells shared a look and a smirk before the latter picked up his Champagne flute and tapped a fork against it. Bellamy followed suit and, before long, the entire Arkadian side of the room was clinking their cutlery against their flutes and Lexa watched, confused, as her dance partner went back to her crimson color, avoiding her gaze.

“What’s happening?” she asked, glancing around the room at the smiling faces of the Arkadians and the confusion etched into the faces of her Grounders. Indra’s hand was resting against her sword again, her eyes flitting around the room, distrustfully.

“It’s a, ahem, Arkadian tradition,” Clarke said. “Actually, it predates Arkadia, I think.”

“What does it mean?” Lexa asked as the clinking continued.

“It means they want us to…to kiss,” Clarke answered, the tips of her ears turning scarlet as she hid her face with one hand, embarrassment warming her body.

When she felt another hand wrap around hers, she peeked between her fingers and saw Lexa giving her a soft, understanding look. “Do you wish to kiss me?” she asked. “It’s okay if you don’t; it’s your choice.”

Clarke swallowed thickly as Lexa’s callused thumb swept over her knuckles, like they had before; it was so relaxing, and yet it caused Clarke’s heart to flip in her chest and her breath to catch in her throat for a second too long, her breath stuttering out past dry lips. She swallowed again and nodded, clearing her throat.

“I would,” she croaked, then cleared her throat again. “I mean, we might as well, right? We’ll be…we’ll have to do it tomorrow. It would be good practice.”

 _Shut up, you idiot!_ said a tiny voice in the back of her head. Clarke pressed her lips together and felt her cheeks fill with even more heat at the calculating look Lexa was giving her. She was about to open her mouth and insist they just forget the whole thing.

But then Lexa nodded firmly and stepped forward. “You’re right,” she said. “We should… _practice_. It would be beneficial for both of us. It could even instill some confidence in our people.”

“Our people,” Clarke echoed, nodding. “Yes. Yeah. That’s…that’s a good idea. We can do it for…for our people.”

Lexa nodded and raised one hand, then paused before she allowed it to touch Clarke’s skin. “Is this okay?” she whispered. Clarke nodded and inhaled sharply when she felt Lexa’s rough palm land on her jaw, that callused thumb swiping against her cheekbone. She relaxed into the touch and forced herself to take a long, deep breath as she leaned forward, her own hands coming back to rest on Lexa’s shoulders.

The clinking glasses faded into a buzz as their lips met, a spark of electricity causing them both to jump and separate for less than a second before they were back, Clarke’s arms winding around Lexa’s shoulders and Lexa’s hands lowering to rest gently on her hips, cradling them gently with her long fingers, slightly grasping the fabric of Clarke’s dress, wrinkling the fabric. Clarke didn’t seem to mind, however, as she leaned further against Lexa’s their noses bumping as they turned their heads, switching sides. Lexa felt her head grow lighter—either by lack of oxygen or the shocks Clarke’s lips were sending through her—and pulled back slightly, her lips turning up when she felt Clarke start to follow her. She allowed herself one quick breath before pressing back, her hands rising again to cup Clarke’s cheeks and her lips slowing against the blonde’s as their embrace came to an end.

She pulled away slowly, blinking open soft green eyes as she watched Clarke catch her breath and follow suit at her own pace, their gazes locking, wide and shocked as what had just happened begun to sink through the fog in their brains. They barely even registered the sound of applause, starting softly and slowly picking up both speed and volume. Their eyes remained on one another, even as their people gathered more closely around them and patted them on the back in congratulations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am tentatively giving myself a chapter limit of 7. Hopefully I can keep it confined and finish it at the same time. I really hope y'all are enjoying this as well as my other stories. Thank you for reading!!!


End file.
